Sewing
by Rashelle
Summary: Carly isn't very good at sewing in the first place, but with Jack Atlas watching her as she tries to mend a pair of jeans, her hand is definitely less than steady. Though what really surprises her is when he takes the needle from her hand and starts sewing the pair of pants himself. Very light Retributionshipping.


**This idea came to me, and it just wouldn't leave me alone. I don't even do a whole lot of shipping (in general, really). But I wrote this and now I'm happy. :3 I can totally see Jack being able to sew. Martha would've taught him all that kind of stuff. Very light romancy stuff, but it's there.**

**I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's.**

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Carly flinched as she pricked her thumb for about the twentieth time. She was trying to sew up a hole in a pair of her jeans (she knew that some people _liked_ them with holes and would pay extra money to buy them that way, but that just wasn't _her_), but the needle just wouldn't cooperate! Well, that was contributed to the fact that her hand wouldn't stop shaking, no matter how many times she tried to get it to quit. Angrily, she threw the needle, thread, and jeans down on the table. Why was this so difficult? Sure, she wasn't very good at sewing (or fixing anything in general, actually), but she had done this before, so why was it so impossible now? Maybe she should just buy some new clothes. She snorted to herself. Yeah right. Because she totally had the money for that. Her boss was biased against her for whatever reason, and the fact that he threatened to fire her constantly (even though he never actually did) resulted in a pretty low pay.

After stretching her hands for a moment, Carly picked the needle back up. Her hand started to vibrate. She gritted her teeth. She could do this—_prick_. Carly swore under her breath. She quickly pulled her hand away, to see a little dot of blood. She shouldn't have lost that thimble. With a sigh, she grudgingly stood up from the table (almost knocking over the small pile of clothes she had forgotten were also on the table), and headed towards the bathroom in search of a band aid. On her way through her living room, she noticed Jack (_Jack Atlas_, former duel king, was in _her apartment_) sitting on her couch with a bored expression. He did that a lot. Just sit there. He hardly ever turned on the TV or tried to find something to entertain himself with. He just sat, and (as Carly assumed) thought. About what, she had no idea. Maybe Yusei, the guy who'd beat Jack in their duel and ended his two-year streak of wins. Maybe of the media and reporters, who were trying to hunt him down like crazy. Maybe…just about anything.

Trying to avoid eye contact, Carly turned her attention to his injured right arm, instead. It was wrapped in white cloth, and Carly could notice him absentmindedly picking at it, as if it were itchy. Quickening her pace a little, she could feel him watching her with his unsettling violet eyes until she disappeared around the corner.

As she was digging through the medicine cabinet above the sink, a thought dawned on her. Jack was sitting on the couch the whole time, watching her screw up as she tried to sew a hole in a pair of jeans. She blushed furiously. She was sure he thought she was a total klutz already, but how he must think she's completely _useless_, too! If she can't sew one measly hole in a pair of jeans, she must not be able to do anything at all. _Which, in all honesty, probably wasn't too far from the truth_, Carly thought gloomily.

Pulling out the box of band aids and blinking to avoid frustrated tears, Carly quickly wrapped a small, brown band aid around her finger, threw out the trash, and put the box back in the cabinet, which she closed. Taking a moment to compose herself, Carly then headed back out into the main room (living room/kitchen), only to see the couch empty. Thinking that Jack must have gone back to his room (her guest room), she gave a small sigh and headed back to the table, only to bump into said man. She gave a little squeak and jumped back.

"I—I'm sorry, Jack!" Carly stuttered. Her face was burning. She had _touched_ him. Now he was probably going to hate her, or something! Why was she such a klutz?

Completely oblivious to Carly's 'inner turmoil', Jack simply gave her one last look (that didn't tell Carly anything), and made his was over to the table, where he started to eat his yogurt (from her fridge). Carly felt an alarm go off in her head. If Jack was sitting at the table while she was sitting at the table (normally she'd be all over the thought of it)…Oh god, she'd never be able to sew that poor pair of jeans now.

_Suck it up, _Carly, she thought to herself. _If you can't sew a measly little hole in a pair of pants just because Jack is sitting across from you, watching you do it, you're just pathetic. _Sucking in a breath, Carly slowly followed Jack to the table, sitting down across from him, with her serwing supplies and a pile of folded laundry. She reluctantly picked up the needle, very aware of Jack's eyes watching her every move.

She actually did manage to get a few stitches done (with immense concentration), but the were so crooked, she had to undo them and start again. Fifteen minutes had passed since she started, and Jack had managed to find one of her few cup ramen (she had learned that he loved ramen). He seemed to be concentrating on the noodles, but Carly could still tell that he was watching her. Well, probably not _her_, but her sad attempts at sewing. This time, she got to seven stitches (it _was_ a fairly big hole) before she had to undo her 'work'. As she loosed the stitches, the string broke. Carly bit back a scream and simply moaned. _Somehow_ managing to get the rest of the stitches out, she then was faced with the next challenge—rethreading the needle. This was the part she hated the most. Her eye vision wasn't great in the first place, and glasses didn't help a whole lot with this kind of delicate work.

Carly tried and failed to get a string through the needle for a good five minutes or so, until she heard a chair scrape back on the wooden floor. She glanced up from her 'work' to see Jack stand up, his eyes on her. She couldn't read the expression on his face as he made his way around the table, coming closer to her. Carly felt her heart start to beat faster. What was he doing?

In answer to her unspoken question, Jack grabbed (none too gently) the needle and thread from her hands. Carly felt her heart skip a beat when his hand brushed hers for half an instant. Staring at the blonde man in front of her in disbelief, she watched in awe and confusion as he easily threaded the needle. Not even looking at her, Jack snatched up the torn jeans and strode over to the couch, where he sat, crossed his legs, and started sewing.

Before Carly could even comprehend what was going on, Jack finished by clipping the rest of the thread. He stood back up, marched over to her, and held out the jeans.

She was still gaping. "You…can sew."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "So?"

"N—nothing!" Carly blurted awkwardly. "Um..thank you."

Jack frowned, studying his work. "You don't like it?"

"No! I mean yes! I mean that it's…" Carly could feel her cheeks burning as she quickly glanced down. She could feel Jack's hard gaze on her as she turned to see his workmanship herself, and Carly was amazed to find that it was _absolutely flawless_. "It's…amazing."

Jack raised an eyebrow, but just as soon smirked. "Of course it is, it was done by Jack Atlas. Now are you going to take this or not?" Jack indicated the pair of pants he was holding out to her that she had yet to take.

"Oh! Yeah, um," stammered Carly as she slowly reached out for her jeans. "But why did you sew them in the first place?"

"You were apparently having trouble. And you wanted me to repay you," Jack said coolly, "so consider this a little bit of that payment." Jack gently handed her back her worn pair of jeans. Carly could have sworn she saw a small smile ghost across his face.

"Oh. Well in that case," Carly put the mended jeans down and reached over to the pile of clothes she had on the side of the table. Turning back to Jack, she gave him a sheepish smile before holding another pair of pants out to him. "Could you sew these, too?"

This time, Jack actually did give her a small smile (though whether or not it was because he was amused, she didn't know). "Of course."

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**I apologize for butchering any sewing terms, I don't know jack (haha) squat about it. **

**Reviews are awesome, and now apparently favorites count for something, too. ;D**


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